


Leak

by daisyisawriter91



Series: Don Winchester [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mob, Henry-centric, Implied/Referenced Torture, Insubordination, M/M, Mob Boss Henry Winchester, Mob Politics, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14660697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Samuel Campbell has fallen off the face of the Earth. Either he's in deep hiding, or there's a leak in Henry Winchester's operation.





	Leak

There was a matter in Henry’s brain that simply wouldn’t die. No matter how hard he tried to push it to the depths of his brain, he was simply unable to get it out of his mind.  
Samuel Campbell. All news of him was entirely silent. And this was awfully uncharacteristic of Samuel, who enjoyed spectacle, provided it was within the underworld.  
Henry had operatives in Chicago. He would have known the exact moment Samuel touched down. But he didn’t, and that bothered him. It meant that Don Samuel Campbell was still in New York, and if that big of an enemy was still on Henry’s territory, that meant things were at risk. Territory, resources, his family, _Balthazar_. He couldn’t have that.   
He _wanted_ to go on a manhunt. But this would be unproductive, at best, and counterproductive at worst. It could alert Samuel to his suspicions, and let him disappear without a trace. There was still a chance Henry could track him if he played his cards right.  
This was going to be tricky. But Henry had done very similar things before, with lower stakes. He could do it again, for someone as grossly incompetent as Samuel Campbell. All brawn, no brains, that one.  
Henry absentmindedly touched his tattoo, head in other places. Whenever he went into such a tense situation, he liked to have multitudes of plans, with at least twenty different outcomes for each of those plans. It was complicated, and it left room for little else in his head, but it often paid to be prepared.  
“If you think any harder, steam will come out of your head, darling.” Henry’s thought process was interrupted by Balthazar beside him. A few moments ago, Balthazar had been asleep, just illuminated by the city lights filtering through the magnolia stained glass, broken by the falling snow.  
“Did I wake you?” Henry asked, gently, turning towards his boyfriend.  
“No, love, you didn’t.” Balthazar sat up and grabbed Henry’s hand, gently kissing a knuckle. “Where has that magnificent brain of yours taken you, tonight?”  
“Do you remember me telling you about Samuel Campbell?” Henry asked.   
“Of course I do. And I seem to remember the best sex of my life after you won Brooklyn from him.” Balthazar answered. “What about him?”  
“Something’s…off. With all the operatives that I have, one of them should’ve told me something by now. So either, Samuel’s in hiding, or…” Henry came to a realization. “Or I’ve got a bug in my system.”  
“You think someone has betrayed you?” Balthazar questioned, smoothing back a stray bit of hair from Henry’s forehead.  
“I don’t know. It’s possible. It _has_ happened before.” Henry replied.  
“When was this?” Balthazar prompted, gently.  
“There was a time in London…did Meg already tell you this story?” Henry countered.   
“She told me to ask you.”  
“That figures.”  
Henry turned away and bit his lip, retreating back in his head, despite how tempting it was to stay with Balthazar for the night.  
“Oh, Henry, darling, I’m sorry. Is there any way I could help?” Balthazar offered, sincerely.   
“You’re too kind. Unfortunately, no. This is my own issue, one I have to solve without getting you involved.” Henry answered. He didn’t want Balthazar involved, not after the bombing.   
He’d been careless, then. He was on guard, now. Abaddon had been given her own medicine, but that wouldn’t keep her quiet for long. She’d be back, and stronger than ever. And Balthazar would get caught in the crossfires unless Henry kept him out of it.  
He had to take care of it by himself, with only Meg to help.

 

Over the course of a week, Henry and Meg studiously interviewed every person they had, testing for signs of foul play. And thus far, they’d come up with absolutely nothing. It was possible that Samuel had just gone deep into hiding, or house arrest, and that Henry was overreacting.   
He sat in his office, chin resting on his clasped hands, still deep in thought. Snow clung to his large window, but it no longer fell in droves as it had the day before. There was only one person it could be, and Henry didn’t particularly want to see him.  
“Knock knock.” Fergus Crowley called, coat still dusted with snow.  
Henry, who had been facing the window, staring out at the city he adored, swiveled his chair around to face the snake of a man head on.  
He had nothing against Crowley. In fact, the well known information broker was immensely helpful to all the mafia bosses in the state, and in the next two down. But talking to him could easily become frustrating, and with the day Henry had been having, with the fruitless search and all, he wasn’t in the mood for Crowley’s particular brand of drivel.  
“Hello, Crowley.” Henry greeted, cordially. “What brings you here on this fine night?”   
“A simple matter, really.” Crowley invited himself onto one of the chairs opposite Henry. “I’ll get straight to the heart of the issue, I can see you’re not in the mood for foreplay. There’s a bug in your operation. And I know who it is.”  
Henry wasn’t sure what else he’d been expecting. If there was even the tiniest thing out of ordinary, Crowley would find it, and would use it to his advantage. He was going to ask Henry for something in exchange for the exact identity of the person.  
“I see. And in exchange for the information, what do you want?” Henry prompted.  
“What makes you think I want something?” Crowley countered. Henry sat back in his chair and examined Crowley, closely.  
“That’s very out of character, Crowley. I’ve never known you to do something without a reason.”   
“Oh, darling, you know me too well.” Crowley replied, chuckling, slightly. The word “darling” sat wrong in Henry’s mind if it wasn’t being said by Balthazar, but he ignored it. Telling Crowley to stop doing something would only make him do it more out of pure spite. “I’d like a favor.”  
“And that would entail…?”  
“Absolutely anything at all. A favor in reserve, if you will.” Crowley replied.   
It was risky, but whatever Crowley wanted in the future, Henry could provide. And he could even turn it to his own advantage. Get him to use it as quickly as possible so that when he needed help from Henry, he’d have to build up his own favor. On and on the cycle would go, neither willing to even the stakes permanently. Such as it were, in this world they lived in.  
“Alright. I agree. Who is it?”  
Crowley smiled.

 

Steam poured out of pipes and fans whirred with life all around Henry. He stood in the basement of his office building, intent on finding the one Crowley had pointed out.   
The floor was damp and the air carried a distinct, yet unnameable smell Henry had known all his life. It didn’t bother him, not in the slightest. He hadn’t live a life so privileged that this type of environment was uncomfortable. He liked it down in the trenches. In fact, he’d missed it.  
The mechanics keeping the place running shied away from Henry’s cool, calculating gaze. But none of them were his objective. He was looking for one man in particular.  
Henry found the mechanic standing in front of a large tangle of pipes, working intently. But he saw Henry, he knew the Don was there.  
“Gordon Walker. I’d like to speak with you for a moment.” Henry said.  
“Sure, boss.” Gordon agreed, putting on a cheery mask just for Henry.  
Henry led him up to his office, not caring about the stares of the other mechanics. They didn’t speak a word to each other, they didn’t need to. They both knew what it was about, there was no need for clarification.  
Henry let Gordon walk into the office first, and closed the door behind them both. This was going to be the fun part. Gordon didn’t even know what was coming to him.  
Gordon sat in one of the chairs opposite Henry’s, and Henry subtly started circling the chair.  
“So, Mr. Walker. You work for Samuel Campbell. There’s no need to put up a farce, I already know.” Henry said. Gordon chuckled.  
“Okay, yeah, I work for Campbell. What’re you gonna do about it? You’re all bark, no bite. You refuse to kill, and it makes you weak. At least he can kill without remorse.” Gordon retorted. Henry sighed and shook his head.  
“Ah, Mr. Walker, you’re wrong. It doesn’t mean I’m weak, it means I’m smart. In this life, you don’t have to think to kill people. The more lives you steal, the less you have to think or care about consequences. You’ll just murder all the consequences. But, I can’t take you off the path you’ve already started down.” Henry walked towards the door.  
“You gonna kill me, then? You can go ahead, I’ve got nothing to be scared off.” Gordon challenged.  
“Oh, me? No, not, I’d rather not. You’re not worth my time. But you jeopardized the safety of myself and my family, which means I can’t let you off the hook.” Henry responded. At that very moment, Meg walked in. She was wearing a blood-stained apron, and had a clanking bag grasped in her hand. “Have fun with him, Meg. You can do whatever you’d like, just don’t let anyone see.”  
“You got it, boss. I’ve always hated this guy, anyways.” Meg replied, putting on a fake formality. Henry sent a cheeky grin to Gordon.  
“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Walker.” And he left the office, locking it behind him.  
Henry was glad the office was soundproof. There were bound to be a few screams.  
But that didn’t bother him too much. He just wanted to get home to Balthazar.


End file.
